"Joey… Ivy loves me," Winn said. "She may need time to think the permanence of things through, but she is coming. So quit with the weird sad face and go get ready to be my best man." There was a glint in his eyes, a fire that no absence or threat could extinguish.
"Winn…" Joey began.
"I said go!" Winn thundered. "She is coming. She has to." His stride carried him past Joey without a backward glance, each step filled with purpose, urgency, and a quiet desperation.
Once inside his room, Winn dialed Ivy's number again, the repeated buzzing of unanswered calls a tormenting drumbeat. "Babe, come on. Just call me, please. We can talk this out. We can postpone the wedding." He muttered to himself.
He moved to the wardrobe and began preparing for the day, each cufflink, tie knot, and folded shirt a small act of control in a situation that had become maddeningly chaotic. She would come. Ivy would come.
